


Prompt #2 - Bargain

by Big_Spicy_Garlean_Fucker



Series: FFXIVWrite2019 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Clothing, Crack Treated Seriously, Dank Memes, Deliberate Badfic, Inappropriate Humor, OOC, Other, Out of Character, Reader Insert, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2019, crackfic, i have no idea what is going on at all, praetorium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 04:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20501093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Spicy_Garlean_Fucker/pseuds/Big_Spicy_Garlean_Fucker
Summary: Someone might’ve done the ole MSQ roulette one too many times.





	Prompt #2 - Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> This is *entirely* senseless bullshit, but I had fun writing it. You've been warned!

“Lahabrea!” You roar at the top of your lungs to be heard around the blazing fires and falling airships all over the Praetorium. “I’ve come to bargain!”

Lahabrea, in Thancred’s body, simply crosses his arms and looks at you. Or at least you think he is. Can’t see his eyes for the mask now adorning his face, blood-red and leaving just a glimpse of his snarling mouth. His silence doesn’t quite say _I’m listening_ – it doesn’t bespeak much aside from the raw hatred reserved for your kind, Warriors of Light. You know much better than to try and negotiate with an Ascian, but this is _Thancred_ he’s puppeting. Old mate Thanc, with his witty one-liners and extra spicy combat abilities. You can’t just let him die!

“Tell me what you want.”

Lahabrea snorts. “Your doom.”

You wince in your aethers where Lahabrea _feels it_, with no need to read the look upon your face. His thin lips curl up into a grin, baring sharp teeth that almost resemble fangs. A closer look would help. You’re not sure you want one.

“Tell me, vaunted Champion of the Light, are you frightened?” He stands perfectly still, making no move to approach you or otherwise attack. “You should be.”

_That_ gives you pause. Who does this guy think he is, talking big like you haven’t just spent a good few hours listening to Gaius do the same? “If you’re going to monologue at me, I honestly don’t have the time. Look, the Ultima Weapon’s dead, Gaius too…” Off to one side, the Legatus lies in a crumpled pile amongst bits of scrap metal and the smoking husk of a cannon. Looks dead enough. “And I’m supposed to finish you off-”

“WITH your friend!” Lahabrea throws his arms out and takes a lone step forth, robes fluttering around his ankles. For some reason, he’s wearing seven-fulm platform boots up to the knees, and it’s a bit distracting. Where the hell did he even _get_ those? “Are you listening?! I’m inside Thancred! And you can’t do a _single_ thing to me without killing him! Gwahahaha!”

“Nice boots.” It slips out before you can purse your lips and pretend to be pissed, and it catches the Ascian off guard.

“Eh?”

“For real. Where’d you get those?”

Lahabrea squints. “I made them… but that isn’t the point! I’m going to kill you, get ready!”

“I’d rather not.” You squat, peering up Lahabrea’s robes as far as you can. “Man. You really went all-out with the evil villain outfit. What is that, latex?”

Lahabrea swiftly turns aside so you can’t see any further, and glowers at you from the corner of his eye. The softest blush tints his cheeks beneath his mask, but from indignation or flattery remains unclear. You stand properly and stretch, arms above your head.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to kill you. It’d be a crime against fashion. Let me cut you a deal, alright?” Your left hand slips into your pocket, right gesturing around, and you strut towards Lahabrea without even looking at him. “I’ve been leatherworking all my life, and I ain’t seen nothing like that before.”

Lahabrea snaps his legs shut and straightens up, clawed fingers pulling dark energies out of void-knows-where. Purple coils swirl along his forearms and he bares his teeth defensively, holding his ground as only an immortal jackass can. “C…Cease your prattling before I clap your ass! Hydaelyn won’t save you now!” He begins to cast and at once you dart into his face, right up against him without need for a weapon of your own. Not yet. “Hrk!” He struggles against your hold, beginning to dematerialize his garments with the latent energies at his disposal now turning thoroughly defensive.

“I _said_…” You give him a shake, displacing his thought once more and exerting what you can of your own will “I’ve come to bargain.”

“You have no power here!” he spits, “I’m Thancred! You can’t extract my presence from this body without great loss to you and yours!”

“What do you know of loss? Gimme your outfit. Then we’ll talk loss.”

“Fuck off!” He wrenches himself away, the topmost clasp of his robes torn. “Zodiark’s tits, will you just fight me already?! You have _nothing_ that I want!”

“I do. Ligma.”

Lahabrea pauses. Lowers his hands. If he’s casting, you sure as hell can’t tell, and for a time he just looks at you, the edges of his corporeal form shifting in and out of sight.

“…You _dare_ invoke the words of power, here?”

You tilt your head up and grin. “I sure do.” You don’t actually know what it means, but it came to you one night in an Ascian-related dream, back at the Waking Sands. “Now. I’m going to ask you one more time. Will you hop out of Thancred’s body and let me get a good look at that outfit of yours? It’s real nice.”

“That, I cannot do. It is my duty and mine _alone_ to see you to your end – you and your relentless allies, blind and foolish, the lot of you.”

You furrow your brows. “That’s like a whole-ass expansion away, dude. If there’s anyone here who’s short-sighted it’s you. Don’t you know the true endgame?”

Lahabrea’s lips twitch. “The Rejoining, of course!”

“No.” You motion just a few ilms before your face, up and down, spreading a series of shimmering plates out into the air. “Glamor and housing.”

“No… It can’t be.” Even as Lahabrea watches you switch through ten different sets, the realization dawns on him that he won’t be able to escape this in one piece. “You- you can’t. It’s impossible.”

“The robes, Lahabrea. Hand them over.”

The Praetorium continues to burn around you as Lahabrea undresses, eyes glazed over and turned to the ground in disbelief. Your invocation of the sacred, ancient texts seems to have done a number on his mental state, and sucked almost all of the aggression out of him. There will always be another opportunity to cut the Scions down along with whatever Warriors they pit against the Ascians. But there won’t be another Lahabrea if this Warrior sets their mind to unraveling his secrets, his construction, his form.

His Concept.

“Now the meat suit. Come on.”

Lahabrea stands there, stark nude save the mask upon his face. “I need it-”

“No you don’t. Get out of there and I’ll let you go. And do try to make better decisions in the future, alright? I mean, look at this place.” Fine Garlean engineering all gone to waste. It’s getting a little hard to breathe, come to think of it. “The next time I see you, you better be in a Hempen Cowl or some shit. No more flexing your creations.”

“I’ll… I’ll…!” Lahabrea spontaneously combusts, darkness flaring around the now abandoned body of Thancred which pitches forth and hits the ground, motionless. “I’ll be baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!” The Ascian disappears into nothingness, or maybe the Lifestream, but it sure does look like he’s gone for good. Beside you lays a pile of fabric, two tall boots and a pair of skintight pants. Your very being aches with stress, worn out from hours of fighting through the Praetorium and then the Ultima Weapon, _twice. _Thancred, at least, is still alive if unconscious. You bundle him up for decency’s sake and glance to where Gaius still lies, minding his own business on the floor. It’s probably for the best.

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever think God looks down in fear of what he's created


End file.
